


Carry On

by Creed Cascade (creedcascade)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic, M/M, Pie, Season/Series 05, Vessel Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-19
Updated: 2011-11-19
Packaged: 2017-10-26 07:27:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/280371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creedcascade/pseuds/Creed%20Cascade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Casiel returned to find Dean making pie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carry On

**Author's Note:**

> Post Season 5. Spoilers lie within.

The neighbourhood dogs sensed something was wrong first. Dean could hear the teacup poodle next door howling forlornly, soon joined by a chorus of the beagle down the street and the ugly, three-legged mutt across the back alley. At first Dean thought he had suddenly become possessed as the world appeared to be moving around him. Then he remembered he wasn’t a hunter anymore. A part of his rational brain supplied that it was far more likely he was having a seizure. When picture frames rattled on the wall and bric-a-brac fell onto the floor, Dean realized it wasn’t him. The house was actually shaking.

Dean gripped the sink edge for support and braced his legs, waiting for it to stop. “A freakin’ earthquake in Indiana? Hell must’ve of frozen over.”

Castiel found Dean inside the small kitchen of Lisa’s home. The counter was covered in flour and Dean’s worn, grey Henley hadn’t faired much better.

“You have flour on your cheek.”

Dean whirled around, hands covered in goo. His fingers itched to reach for a gun that wasn’t there. Lisa’s first rule had been no weapons of any kind. Reinforced by decades of training, Dean grabbed the first thing that could be used as a weapon, which happened to be a cast iron frying pan. Dean figured iron would zap any number of paranormal baddies and if it happened to be human, then a cast iron frying to the side of the head would take care of that problem nicely.

Castiel stood with his shoulders slightly slumped, looking as rumpled as the last time Dean had seen him in the Impala. “Hello, Dean.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t thump you!”

Dean swung the heavy frying pan close to Castiel’s face to make his point, but Castiel didn’t even flinch. Castiel remained silent, watching Dean and standing too close.

Dean rolled his eyes and decided even though he wanted to smack Castiel upside the head, it wasn’t worth the effort. He set the frying pan on the island counter and cringed with his hand stuck to the handle. “Cas, what are you doing here?”

“I’m talking to you.”

“Stop being so fucking literal. I know you know better than that now.” Dean turned his back on Castiel and found the mass of dough he had been kneading had fallen onto the floor.

“You’ve become domesticated.”

Dean tried to ignore Castiel. “Fuck off.”

“Seeking solace in mundane drudgery is much more commendable than finding solace in your past sinful pursuits.”

Dean dangled the dough in front of his face to get a closer look to see if it was salvageable. There were bits of hair and unidentifiable crude stuck to it. Dean stomped on the garbage can pedal and tossed the dough ball at it. He groaned when it glomped onto the side, oozing down the outside of the can.

“I have a feeling if I told you to fuck off again, it wouldn’t make a difference.” Dean crouched down and poked at the clingy dough, trying to force it into the garbage bag. “But, hell. I’ll try anyways. Fuck off.”

Even though Dean had only moved a few steps away, Castiel moved closer to him. “Of all of my Father’s creations, I have always found you to be the most compelling… and vexing.”

Dean grabbed the wayward goo and used the edge of the garbage can to scrap what he could off of his hand. “So, you’re on speaking terms with your old man now?”

“I am an Angel of the Lord.”

From a crouched position, Dean was able to launch himself up quickly. He slammed into Castiel, pushing him back with a solid thud against the cabinets. Dean fisted his hands into Castiel’s trench coat, thumping him against the cabinets once more with as much force as he could must. Castiel didn’t fight the assault in any way. His hands came to settle on Dean’s hips and gripped him tight, pulling him closer.

Dean breathed heavily, his face so close to Castiel’s that their noses were almost touching. “You left.”

“I moved heaven and earth to return to you.”

Dean pressed in closer until his forehead was resting against Castiel. His breathing was hard and his knuckles turning white from gripping Castiel so hard. “That was you…”

“No one was hurt. I promise.” One of Castiel’s hands moved from Dean’s hip to his lower back. Castiel pushed up Dean’s t-shirt to rub the exposed skin.

“You left.” Dean’s tone was sharp and accusing.

“I returned.”

Castiel’s hand moved from Dean’s lower to back to trail up his back, stopping at his neck. Massaging the tense muscles, Castiel ran his thumb over the short, bristly hairs at Dean’s hairline. “I never stopped watching over you. I was always with you.”

Dean wanted to deny it, but he knew it was true. It had been a feeling that there was something in the room when there was no one there. Not the feeling from a haunting, but a sense of unseen companionship that somewhat ebbed the bone deep sorrow and loneliness that weighed him down.

Castiel shifted slightly, noticing how Dean tensed unconsciously at the slight indication that Castiel might disappear. Castiel quieted him with a low, rough shushing noise. Moving his head, Castiel rubbed his cheek against Dean’s, his stubble catching somewhat against Dean’s five o’clock shadow. Touching slowly, he moved until his lips rested against the side of Dean’s neck. Castiel nuzzled the pulse point, licking just a bit and groaned softly when he felt Dean’s heartbeat.

“I had to go where you could not follow,” Castiel whispered against Dean’s skin. “Not yet, at least.”

“Maybe it’s too late for you to come back,” Dean snapped, but turned his head to allow Castiel a better angle as he felt teeth start to work his skin. “Maybe I’ve moved on.”

“You’re mine.” Castiel nipped gently, working at leaving a mark on this frustrating son of Adam who had challenged him in every way a human could. Being this close again, Castiel was reminded why he was drawn to Dean. The flesh that was so appealing could barely contain the soul which shone like a beacon. There was no word in any human language to describe Dean’s soul.

Dean perplexed and challenged Castiel. Dean was humble behind the false bravado… putting everyone before himself. His body was attractive, but his soul was his true beauty. It was beautiful, intense, and incredibly flawed, but it was also boundless in its capacity to forgive and care. As Castiel’s vessel held Dean as tight as humanly possible, Castiel’s grace brushed against Dean’s soul seeking forgiven and love. Castiel was expecting resistance, but Dean’s soul welcomed him back, reaching out and luring him with its exceptional radiance. Dean’s soul may have been marred with sadness, mourning the loss of his brother and family, but that only made it more stunning to Castiel. That Dean could still love after so much loss was incredible and why humans were his Father’s most confusing and tempting creations.

Dean was a paradox... the best of mankind, but oh so contrary…

…wilful and obedient…  
…deadly and wounded…  
…straightforward and complex…  
…strong and fragile…  
…vicious and kind…  
…selfish and giving…  
…joyful and forlorn…  
Flawed perfection.

Castiel had thought Dean’s body was wanton, but his soul pulled Castiel’s grace with a searing desperation. Body and soul frantic for his touch. No boundaries.

Castiel’s grace surged out of his vessel, easing into Dean’s being and intertwining with Dean’s soul and filling Dean in way not even Michael could have done if the man had said yes. Jimmy’s body as a vessel was clumsy and without equal compared to this flawlessness. This was not an intrusion as it would have been with Michael. Castiel did not possess Dean, but rather caressed every nerve and cell of his body… leaving his mark and promise… a promise that Dean was not alone. Michael had underestimated Dean. This being was not a mere vessel or meat suit. He was all encompassing.

Where Jimmy’s heritage and bloodline had allowed the potential for an angel to take residence in his body and allow his soul to escape to heaven, Dean had the potential to share his mortal body in a wondrous fusion. Castiel’s grace shuttered with the ultimate form of intimacy and demonstration of trust. There was no other way they could be closer and Castiel worshiped Dean’s body and soul from within. Castiel radiated joy, love, adoration, and devotion… beseeching forgiveness from Dean. No matter the words Dean spoke, his soul could not lie. Dean had forgiven him without being asked and he had even forgiven God. The only one Dean had not forgiven was himself.

Dean had given body, mind, and soul. Man, heaven, and hell had tried to break the man, but no one had. The only one who had come close was his brother. But, the most remarkable aspect of Dean was his capacity for hope beyond any reason. Even now, when everyone else in the universe thought his brother lost, Dean still held out hope that Sam would return. As Castiel’s vessel embraced Dean’s body, so did Castiel’s grace completely embrace and envelope Dean’s soul. Dean surprised Castiel yet again when he sensed the truth. Dean had never given up hope in him, despite Castiel’s lack of faith.

Castiel wanted nothing more than to stay joined with Dean like this forever, but now was not the time or place. Reluctantly, he began to pull his grace away. His vessel shed tears as Dean’s soul refused to release him, frenzied and demanding to keep them intertwined.

Everything that was the angel promised that he was not forsaking Dean. That they were connected now and had always been so… they would forever be so. After much soothing, Dean’s soul reluctantly released him. When his consciousness returned to his vessel, Castiel wanted nothing more than to return to share Dean’s body. The only reason he did not do so was because of the consolation that this mortal coil was only transitory. There was something to be said for the experience of the mortal flesh when he realized Castiel and Dean were kissing. It was messy and their teeth clashed, but soon it gentled.

Castiel was dazed as he realized how this body had reacted to the bliss of his grace joining with Dean’s soul. He shifted uncomfortably, but Dean’s hips thrust back, pinning him against the counter. The wet spot on Dean’s jeans were evidence of their shared physical pleasure.

“Hey,” Dean’s croaked, voice rough as if he had not spoken for a hundred years.

Castiel had no response and blinked owlishly.

“You fell for me…” Dean whispered.

“In more ways that one.” Castiel cracked a smile when he heard Dean groan at his response. “I fell with my Father’s blessing.”

“That was…”

Dean wrapped Castiel in a tender embrace. “Intense.”

“So, we can do that again?”

“Yes and often.” Castiel’s brow furrowed and his expression was solemn. “But, I also want to fornicate.”

“Cas…” Dean laughed deep and loudly. It was joy to witness.

“With you,” Castiel explained as if there was any confusion and his brow drew down. “I wish to fornicate with you.”

“I missed you, freak. Now stopped saying fornicate. It’s creepy.”

Castiel glanced at the countertop that was littered with the attempts of Dean’s baking. “I’m sorry that I ruined your pie.”

“Yeah, well… it’s not like it was likely to edible anyway. The dough didn’t feel right. It’s hard to get a good crust, ya know. The best crust is light and flaky. It falls apart in your mouth. Anything I’ve made so far tastes like rubber.”

Castiel thought this over carefully and as seriously as he would have a seal of the apocalypse. “You could purchase your crust.”

“That’s cheating.”

“I still want to…” Castiel stopped short of saying fornicate, but refused to say the vulgar word that fell so naturally from Dean’s lips. Jimmy’s memories of touching his wife lingered in the distance, but those memories could not compare to the reality of Dean. Finally, Castiel settled on the truth. He was content for this moment to stay in Dean’s embrace amongst the wreckage of Lisa’s kitchen, but he wanted more and soon. “I want to touch you. I desire to touch you a lot and vigorously.”

“I gathered as much. I’d be cool with that, but not now or here.”

“Because this is the home of Lisa and Benjamin Braeden?”

“Ben,” Dean corrected automatically. “The kid hates being called Benjamin.”

“Benjamin means son of my right hand in Hebrew.”

Dean snorted under his breath and shook his head. “You’re still random. After that… you talk about pie and then you bring up the kid’s name?”

“The child is of your loins.”

Dean choked a little, colour rising on his cheeks. “Who in the hell talks like that? Just… stop.”

Castiel tilted his head to the side, considering Dean carefully. “Do you deny it?”

Castiel could feel the surge of pride from Dean’s soul. “Nah, the boy’s Winchester.”

The child was another source of hope for Dean, but also one of fear. Dean was afraid of being of terrible father and scared that his past would hurt Lisa and Ben. He was afraid, but he made a promise to Sam and he had been too lonely to leave the only family he had left. Castiel wasn’t jealous, but grateful they had given Dean solace while he was away. He could never hate Dean’s child because the boy was a part of Dean.

“I’ve been watching you,” Castiel confessed. “Your relationship with Lisa has become a chaste one.”

“You don’t know jackshit.” Even though Dean was angry, he did not pull away from Castiel. “Maybe we’ve doing it like freakin’ bunnies… all day and all night long…”

“Dean,” Castiel’s tone was as if he was speaking to a petulant child. “I watch you. Always.”

“You…” Dean sputtered. “Of course you do. Stalker.”

Castiel would have seen Dean at the failure of apple pie life Sam had wanted for him. He had tried to love Lisa the way he dreamed about, but it wasn’t real. He tried, but his body didn’t respond and they didn’t do anything more than kiss without passion and hug. They shared the same bed, but she gave him something he needed more than sex. She gave him comfort and Dean was fond of her. In the darkness when the nightmares came, Lisa held him and whispered that it was okay even though it was far from it.

“She’s my kid’s mom. Lisa’s family.”

“But, she’s not your beloved.” The connotation was clear. It was Castiel’s turn to be petulant. The woman was not worthy of Dean. He thought it fitting punishment that she should be denied him since she lied to his face about Dean being the boy’s father. No matter her intentions of protecting Ben, she had denied Dean the opportunity to be a father.

“No,” Dean chuckled and gave into Castiel’s sulking glare. “You are. Just don’t get used to me saying all of this girly shit, okay?”

Castiel laid his hand over Dean’s heart. It wasn’t where the soul resided, but it was a charming, if false human sentiment. “You do not need to tell me.”

Dean ducked his head to the side, averting Castiel’s gaze with embarrassment. Castiel was amazed that Dean could demonstrate any sense of shyness after all that they had shared. Dean was truly bewildering and Castiel wanted him all the more for it.

“I am at home wherever you are,” he tried to assure Dean. “I can assure you that everything within my disposal in heaven and earth has been put in place to assure the safety of your son. It’s safe for you to stay here and enjoy being with your child.”

It was what Dean wanted, so Castiel made it possible. The man he loved deserved nothing less.

“What about you, Cas? Aren’t you supposed to be smiting some stuff?”

“I’ve already done so. Now, my place is with you.”

“Shouldn’t you be something place better than wasting your time with…”

“Shut up, Dean. I’m where I want to be.” Castiel ran his fingertips along Dean’s jawline. “Tell me about pie.”

“Right, pie…” Dean gifted him with a brilliant smile and clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ve had a lot of pie in my time. Greasy spoons usually make pretty good pie. Ladies who are grateful you saved their lives make good pie, too.”

It all seemed a rather puzzling trade off. “Women give baked goods in exchange for life saving heroics?”

“Among other favours.” Dean leered at Castiel.

Castiel was going to have to keep Dean away from these grateful, pie bearing ladies. “I will learn how to make you pie in exchange for sexual favour, then.”

“You don’t need pie for that, but I’ve never turned down pie… or, sex.”

Castiel traced a fingertip along the ridge of Dean’s ear. Even the smallest details of this man’s anatomy fascinated him. “This I know.”

“Some of the best pie I ever had was made by Bobby’s dead wife. Though the best I remember eating was my mom’s. She’d pick these crab apples off of the neighbour’s tree… they were the best. She made all kinds of pies. In behind the garage of our old place, in the back alley, there was all of this rhubarb. She’d make rhubarb and strawberry pies.” Dean’s eyes were far off as he revisited the fond memories of his mother. Coming back to reality, Dean turned to see himself being watched. “It’s not over, is it?”

“It’s never over. But, for now, we can be content the small things. I’ve learned that from you.”

“Ben’s gonna be home from school soon…”

“We’ll make a pie like your mother used to make. For your son.”

It was the right thing to say because Dean’s soul responded with delight. Dean did not know what lay in store for him or what his true potential was. Castiel was truly thankful that he didn’t either. He had asked his Father not to reveal that to him because he would not lie to Dean. He only knew that his destiny was with this man. Castiel was to love and be with him. It was a reward and responsibility that had been entrusted to him. Castiel’s faith had been renewed because of Dean.

Their destiny would come sooner than it should. He was sure of that, but Castiel would be where he belonged… with Dean.

END.


End file.
